


beautiful stranger (in my arms)

by jessicawhitly



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhitly/pseuds/jessicawhitly
Summary: She’s expecting a beard.
Relationships: Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 11
Kudos: 76





	beautiful stranger (in my arms)

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a drabble for "first kiss" and then got a little out of hand, so I decided to just post it here! Inspired by the s4 teaser, but significantly more romance-centric than anything the show will ever give us. Title from Finally // beautiful stranger by Halsey.

She’s expecting a beard.

Actually, she’d been expecting a totally different scenario. The labor camp is different than the lab she’d been expecting him to be trapped in, and maybe it makes sense when Murray finds the right cell number and finally gets the key in the lock to open the door, revealing him. He’s still tall, but the months have thinned him out in a way that sends a ragged ache through her chest.

Joyce steps just into the cell, and the light falls on the figure’s face; her heart climbs to her throat as she fights the urge to rush forward. Taking measured steps, she closes the distance between them until there’s mere inches, and she has to tilt her face up to look into his eyes.

Jim Hopper’s eyes are still startlingly blue, and they blur slightly as tears fill her eyes at the sight of his familiar face, now angular and free of the mustache that had graced it last time she’d seen it. Gone was the thick hair covering his ears, buzzed away, and Joyce barely realizes what she’s doing as she lifts a hand. Gently, her fingertips trace the lines of his face; Hopper’s eyes flutter shut, air exhaling out of his nose in a sharp breath.

Following the line of his cheekbones up, Joyce cups his ears, cold to the touch, and brings his head down until she can press their foreheads together. Both her hands hold the back of his head, his hair bristly against her palms as he nearly sags against her.

“Joyce,” his voice is ragged and worn, but it sounds like music to her ears, and she can’t help the way a tears slips down her cheek. One of his hands comes up to brush it away, and Joyce leans into the familiar touch.

“It’s really you,” she whispers, voice thick as it catches in her throat, emotion overwhelming her. “We didn’t…I didn’t- I _couldn’t_ -”

She stumbles over her words, trying to compose herself, and Hopper’s touch is gentle as he strokes over her hair, down her back and along her jawline, his eyes drinking her in. It’s like he doesn’t even want to blink, like if he does he’ll wake up from a dream- and Joyce understands, can’t seem to remove her hands from his body, afraid if she does he’ll disappear.

“El- the kids,” Hopper says suddenly, looking behind her in worry like they’ll appear, and Joyce shakes her head immediately, her hands pressing over his heart.

“In the States. They’re safe, Hop. I wouldn’t bring them here,” she reassures him, and relief blooms in his face, softening the sharp angles.

“Nope. Just me, Jimbo,” Murray finally pops his head through the door, sticking his hand out in a short, sharp wave, and an amused smirk twists Hopper’s lips.

“Murray. I assume you’re the one who found this humble abode I’ve been stuck in?” he asks, and Murray shrugs a shoulder modestly.

“Ah, you know me. Fingers in lots of pies,” he answers, and Joyce snorts softly. “Now, Lovebirds, always happy to be part of a reunion, but we have got to get out of here by next shift change, or we’ll all going to be sporting a buzzcut by dinner time.”

Nodding, Joyce wipes at her face, and Hopper moves away briefly to pulls something down from the wall above his bed. Curious, she looks at the square in his hands, and feels herself soften at the picture- it had been from two Christmases ago, and Jonathan had managed to snap a picture of her, El, Hopper, and Will. The two of them were on the couch, the kids on the floor- wrapping paper is everywhere, and for once, it had been like their life was normal, without the Upside Down or the Mindflayer. Joyce can still remember the feeling of Hopper’s thigh, warm against hers on the couch, and the sound of Will and El laughing over some joke Jonathan had been telling them.

“It’s the one thing they let me keep,” Hopper’s voice pulls her from the memory, and his thumb brushes over their faces gently. “Kept me going in here. Reminded me what was back home- that I had something to get back home to.”

“You had this in your wallet?” she asked, and he nodded; before he can say anything else, Joyce nearly launches herself at him, arms around his neck and pressed flush against him as she pressed her lips to his. His shock lasted only a moment before he wrapped his arm around her, the other coming up to sink into her hair. Joyce clutches at Hopper tighter, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as though there were a way to climb inside of him.

“Whoa! Lovebirds! We do not have time for this! _Vamanos!_ ” Murray’s voice pulls them apart, panting, and Joyce feels a flush crawl up her cheeks.

Hopper’s fingers reach down to interlock with hers, squeezing tight, and she just knows that they’re going to be okay.


End file.
